


‘Please, Sir.’

by Descaladumidera



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, M/M, PWP, Tears, blowjob, he wanted to be fucked, now he is too tired, ropes, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 01:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11567061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descaladumidera/pseuds/Descaladumidera
Summary: Theseus Scamander doesn’t whimper. Never. Especially not during sex. Usually he keeps very quiet during the whole ordeal, not making the faintest sound. The women he sleeps with get quite frustrated at times but they never complain—having the war hero in their bed keeps them silent.But it takes only one Percival Graves to break his walls down. To make him gasp, moan and beg. To reduce him to a whimpering mess.





	‘Please, Sir.’

**Author's Note:**

> I am deeply sorry.

Theseus Scamander doesn’t whimper. Never. Especially not during sex. Usually he keeps very quiet during the whole ordeal, not making the faintest sound. The women he sleeps with get quite frustrated at times but they never complain—having the war hero in their bed keeps them silent.

But it takes only one Percival Graves to break his walls down. To make him gasp, moan and beg. To reduce him to a whimpering mess. Percival doesn’t even need to do much, just a look from his sharp, brown eyes, a hand under Theseus’ chin, jerking it up harshly, makes him quiver with lust. Just a subtle brush of Percival’s thumb over his lower lip makes him beg.

‘Please,’ he breathes, barely able to speak.

‘Please what?’ Percival prompts and Theseus is about to groan in frustration but he knows better than that.

‘Please, _Sir_ ,’ he says instead, his voice not as steady as he wishes it to be. His knees on the ground begin to hurt, the wrists of his hands, bound with rope behind his back, begin to itch. ‘ _Please._ ’

Percival smirks. One of those smirks that make Theseus go weak in the knees and make him yearn for the other man. ‘That’s more like it.’ His thumb leaves Theseus’ lip tingling as he turns and walks away a few steps before turning around to Theseus once again. He stands there, proud and tall, still dressed, while Theseus is naked and roped on his knees, tongue wetting his suddenly dry lips.

‘Are you planning on staying there, dressed like that?’ Theseus suddenly asks boldly, looking Percival straight in the eye. He wants this man so badly it hurts. Percival just smirks. And it drives Theseus mad. ‘Percival. _Please._ ’

He watches, body tense, as the other man takes a step forward, towering over him, looking down. ‘Would you rather see me naked?’ He asks, his tone even, nearly soft. Theseus is about to nod frantically but he holds himself back, knowing Percival better than that and knowing he would have to wait even longer if he acts too eager.

He swallows dryly. ‘Yes, Sir,’ he says, glad to notice that his voice is steady. He has a hard time not wriggling, his knees aching on the rough carpet—the rough carpet Percival would hopefully fuck him on, leaving burning marks along his back or his front.

The smirk is there again and Percival crouches down in front of him and Theseus feels the arousal wash over him, nearly gasping from the look the other man shoots him. A strong hand finds its way under his chin and lifts it up—as if it were necessary, he was already looking Percival straight in the eye.

‘Would you like me to kiss you?’

‘Merlin, _yes_!’ He answers immediately, realising his mistake soon after as Percival grips his chin tighter, holding it harshly and shaking his head. Theseus groans in frustration, his cock aching even more than his knees, dripping pre-cum. But the other man jerks his head up roughly, digging his fingers into his jawline.

‘Not like this, Theseus,’ he says. ‘Beg.’

Theseus leans forward, not wanting to follow Percival’s instructions, but he is pressed back roughly by another hand, digging into his shoulder painfully. He huffs in frustration, straining against the ropes on his wrists but to no use. He is bound tightly, no escape possible. He admits his defeat and avoids Percival’s eyes.

‘ _Please_ ,’ he says reluctantly. ‘Please, Sir, I want you to kiss me. I want you to fuck me and fuck me hard until I scream. Please. Please, fuck me on the carpet until I have burn marks and won’t be able to stand any more. Please, _Sir_.’

Percival hums approvingly and grips his jaw again to make him face him. His kiss is rough, his lips firm and Theseus gasps in surprise and closes his eyes, eager to please the other man. When Percival’s tongue pushes its way into his mouth, Theseus can’t suppress a moan. If the other man keeps this up, Theseus will come just from this kiss alone, touch deprived as he is—he yearns for more, yearns for Percival’s cock inside of him, yearns for a rough fuck right here and now. But he has begged enough, he knows it. Percival won’t tease him for much longer.

There is a calloused hand, gripping his cock hard and Theseus lets out a throaty scream, giving Percival access to bite into his lower lip. He tastes blood and it turns him on even more than the thumb brushing lightly over his tip. He is a panting mess, trembling and whispering, ‘ _Please, please, please!_ ’ in hope that Percival will grant him release. But Percival doesn’t do such a thing and Theseus should’ve known.

Instead his friend draws away and a whimper escapes Theseus at the cold that is left behind. But then the sound of a belt opening and trousers falling to the ground reaches his ears and he opens his eyes again. Percival’s cock springs free, right in front of Theseus’ face, nearly whacking him—and he wouldn’t have minded one bit. His tongue darts out to get a taste of what he wants so badly and Percival doesn’t back off, so Theseus takes the cue and licks along the hot length, heady taste on his tongue. He moans deep in his throat, eager to please, eager to take Percival’s cock into his mouth, sucking and licking, pleasing the other man until he comes.

‘Bit eager, aren’t we?’ Percival asks in a low voice and takes a step forward, shoving his cock into Theseus’ face and he can’t help it but take it into his mouth in one go, nearly choking. Percival does this on purpose, pushing his cock as far into Theseus’ mouth as possible, making him gag. Tears sting his eyes and he knows it will turn Percival on even more when he sees him cry, when he sees the tears running down his face, leaving trails and making it all wet. Percival loves Theseus’ vulnerability in those moments.

But Theseus takes the thick cock deep nonetheless, already used to this kind of treatment, his eyes locked on the other man’s, while he hollows his cheeks and _sucks_. A throaty moan reaches his ears and he hums in appreciation as Percival throws his head back in ecstasy. Yes, this is what Theseus wants, so he keeps going, bobbing his head, his tongue swirling around the hot length, sucking occasionally.

He is rewarded with another moan, hands suddenly gripping his hair and holding his head in place as Percival shoves his cock roughly into his mouth before withdrawing and repeating the motion. Theseus moans as soon as he realises that Percival is indeed fucking his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he desperately tries not to gag. Tears are still burning in his eyes and breathing becomes hard and he feels utterly humiliated every time the other’s cock hits the back of his throat but he does nothing to stop this. This is how it should be. This is how Percival should use him.

‘You feel so good,’ Percival pants and Theseus gives a little suck in appreciation of the praise. His own cock, neglected and swollen, twitches between his legs, crying for attention. But it won’t get any until Percival is satisfied—Theseus has learned this over the years.

When Percival’s thrusts get frantic, the steady rhythm he has kept up breaking, Theseus knows his friend is close. He gives one last confident suck, Percival moaning loudly at the sensation, and hot cum floods his raw mouth, shooting down his throat, making him choke. But the cock stays pressed in against the back of his throat, hands gripping his hair tightly, making it unable to move away. And Theseus struggles to breathe, struggles to get free, muffled coughs ringing through the room while he chokes on the hot semen.

And then—finally there’s air. Theseus finds himself on the ground, still bound tightly but able to breathe. His face is wet with tears, cum spluttering out of his mouth with each rippling cough, his whole body trembling from exhaustion. He feels stiff, his limbs aching from being roped for too long, the carpet rough against his sensitive, sweaty skin. He sobs.

‘Shh, everything will be alright, Theseus. I have you.’ Words whispered so softly next to him while gentle hands undo the ropes around his wrists. ‘I’ll take care of you, my friend.’ Theseus chokes back another sob and moves his hands tentatively, his wrists red and raw from his struggles earlier. He doesn’t even try to push himself up, feeling far too weak to move. But the gentle hands pull him up again, making him rest against a strong body that’s sitting next to him on the ground. Soft fabric touches his still heated skin, rubs against his wet cheek and he sighs in relief. Now he is safe. He knows it. And he closes his eyes.

‘You are safe.’ Warm breath tickles his ear and Theseus nods while he presses himself closer to Percival, bathing in the calming warmth of the familiar body. The ropes around his ankles fall to the ground, too, and now arms wrap around him, hold him steady, while his breathing evens out. The trembling slowly dies down until he lies content in Percival’s arms, a hand tenderly stroking his sweaty hair, pushing a strand out of his eyes.

He wonders briefly if he will be able to continue this, if it wasn’t too much this time. Percival has never been _this_ rough with him—not that Theseus doesn’t like it but he feels exhausted and his body won’t move one bit. Maybe it was too much. Maybe he needs a bit of rest. Maybe Percival will understand. Maybe …

‘Take your time, Theseus.’

And Theseus nods, smiling, feeling safe. And his eyes close.

 


End file.
